cup.

Every Tuesday night finds me shuffling my feet trying to stay warm while I watch my son practice for Little League.  It is a new world for us, with new words to add to our vernacular.  Like cup.  Weeks ago I got an email from Peter’s coach requesting that he come to practice with a mitt, a ball and a cup.  A cup.  So he asked me what one was and I tried to explain it as best I could, but I think I did it wrong because when Tess asked him what it was he told her, “It’s a thing that I wear in my underwear when I play baseball to protect me, because if I get hit there my balls will explode.”  Which is totally not how I explained it to him, but Dan says that it’s actually pretty right on.
So I threw the kids in the car and drove to Dick’s (smirk) and bought my six year old his first cup, which is a bit like booking a 747 Airbus for a single passenger.  And it doesn’t have straps, just these biker shorts that have a special pocket for it, but which could easily double as extra storage for snacks or his water bottle.  So now when I stand at the edge of the field and root for him, I’m really just trying to distract him from knocking on his cup every couple of minutes to show whoever is coming into first that he’s protected.  Because he’s really proud.  And excited.  And I don’t know how long this baseball craze will last, but I figure even after Little League is a distant memory, we’ll always have the cup.  And the memory of Peter wearing it.  Being real (cute).

One Reply to “cup.”

  1. Ohh my goodness – I can just hear Peter being so serious as he educates Tess on the dangers of being a man. “because if I get hit there my balls will explode.” I can't stop laughing!! 🙂

    Like

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